The Letter
by ForeverFrostwings
Summary: SPOILERS  His job had made him do many terrible things before. He was paid well, and justified the deeds by that reason alone. But where must he draw the line in the sand? He'd never had to do anything quite like this.


Rain pattered down, thundering against the pane of glass through which he stared without purpose. The sun was blotted out by clouds; rather ominous… could they be a sign?

The trails of water left by the droplets of rain as they scooted down the glass looked like tears, another strange and eerie coincidence.

His phone rang, and his hand shot to his pocket, withdrawing the device and answering with a snappish "Report." Business like as usual.

_'Nothing still sir. Wasteland is as empty as ever.'_ The lazy slurred voice replied from the other end, the voice somewhat hushed by the whirring wind of a rotary blade.

"Well keep looking; I want him found before the army reaches him." Tseng hung up without waiting for a reply, turning from the window, a frown creasing his face, the only sign of the inner turmoil he dealt with. He'd never particularly held much loyalty in the company, his loyalty was to his team… but now he just didn't know what to do.

The fugitive was his friend, a long time comrade… so did he follow the company and take him out as ordered? Or did he follow his heart and hide him away from the eyes that sought his destruction?

His eyes roamed to the box that sat on his desk, wrapped in tape that read "Sealed". Letters lay waiting undelivered inside, 88 of them.

He sighed and picked the box up, flipping it over to look at the underside before setting it back down, the temptation to open the box and read the letters grew stronger every day, but he respected their privacy, Aerith would want it that way, these were for his eyes only.

A shaft of sunlight suddenly bounced off the top of the box and Tseng turned back to the window. The rain seemed to suddenly stop, the cloud blanket opening up to let the sunlight in, strange rays from above like shafts of heaven breaking into the darkness, seeming to focus in the far distance on the cliffs that ringed the deserted bowl in which the city sat. Even this seemed oddly symbolic, and only deepened his foreboding.

He didn't know how long he'd loitered around the office before he received the call; the voice on the other side had lost its lazy tone and was now reserved and quiet, as if the news was not of the kind they really wanted to relay.

_'We… found him sir.'_ They began, no positivity in their voice, _'You'll wanna get down here.'_

His heart in dismay he got into a chopper and made his way to the coordinates they'd sent. He brought the box with him, just in case… but an ominous feeling in his gut, like the rain on the window and the clouds in the sky, dispelled most of the hope he held inside.

He knew almost the moment he climbed out of the chopper that his feelings were right. His polished shoes splashed into a puddle, initially he passed it off as rain, but when he looked down he realised the pool of water was tainted a deep burgundy red, the pool made much thicker than water by a foreign liquid. The ground around him was covered in similar puddles, all tainted red with blood. Helmets, weapons and bodies lay strewn all around, all of them in company uniform, every one of them an infantryman. He stooped to pick up a helmet, brushing away the grime that caked the visor. He inspected it for a moment, subconsciously stalling to fight away the dread, trying to compose himself.

Eventually he cast aside the battered helmet and walked forward, dodging gore and bodies with a practiced step, noting every wound inflicted to the dead was made with a sword. His comrades stood near the edge of the cliff, watching him approach with sad eyes. They'd learned to deal with dirty situations, it was their job and they were paid well for it. True, things were becoming more and more difficult as the years ticked by, but this case was far closer to all their hearts than they dared say.

He hadn't even reached them yet when he realised all their work had been in vane, his toes brushed aside many empty bullet cases, a good indication of the sheer numbers involved in the conflict.

"Sorry sir." His subordinate murmured, stepping aside as he reached the body.

For a brief moment in time his flawless composure failed him, his porcelain masked face shattered and a look of grief and agony filled his eyes. Quickly he fought it away; it would not do to lose face now, even if he was aggrieved by his loss.

There his friend lay, sprawled in a pool of his own blood. His chest was filled with bullet wounds, his body torn and beaten by weapons of many kinds. How strangely fragile he looked now, he'd seemed so carefree and indestructible when they'd first met, grinning and leaping into action with reckless abandon, walking out of air strikes with casual ease. He was a fool to assume that he could defeat anything they threw at him.

He knelt beside him, trying to inspect the fallen SOLDIER as he would any other investigation he got put in charge of. One touch of the body though racked his heart with hidden grief, it was still warm… he was not long dead… if they'd only been quicker. There was a peaceful smile on his face, as if he'd died a content man somehow, despite the brutal conditions of his exile and execution. As was protocol Tseng checked his pockets and clothes for any objects, all he found was a badly water and blood damaged piece of paper. Carefully unfolding it he inspected the words, the ink had bled badly. From what he could make out, it was a letter from someone, the name at the bottom too badly blotted to be read. Despite the bad condition Tseng was determined to read it.

"I want this taken back to headquarters and computer enhanced… I want it readable." he said in an authoritative tone to his comrade who stood silently beside him.

"Course boss." he replied, gently taking the damaged paper and disappearing towards the helicopter to stash it somewhere safe. The tall dark man with him turned to follow, leaving Tseng alone with the body of his wrongly prosecuted friend.

So now the barriers would drop just a little. Why hadn't he acted faster? Set aside his work loyalties and acted with his heart, wasn't a friend more important than his job? He'd known all that had happened right from the start, he and his Turks had decided immediately that it was wrong, but he'd chosen to say nothing and follow orders for a time.

He'd known about Hojos's experiments, but he knew confronting a company scientist was a silly move and that HE might end up the next experiment. So he'd bide his time…

But he'd waited too long and his friend had paid the ultimate price for it.

He stood as his Turks returned with a stretcher and shook his head. "No, we will bury him here… better than risk Shinra discovering what happened… we do not want to risk incrimination at this late point in our operation."

His comrades nodded and returned to the chopper again to get some shovels.

Tseng watched the work for the long hours, silently praying for his friend's easy return to the lifestream. He even vocally expressed his wish for him to be remembered as a loyal SOLDIER and not the wrongfully accused traitor. It was thanks to her that he believed in a better place after death, as a young man he'd seen death as an end, but in her kind words and ancient wisdom he'd learned that death was a beginning, and the soul returned to its home after death, he wanted to believe it was true. Then they'd left, and Tseng refused to turn and look, he felt despicable, turning his back on a friend with just an unmarked patch of upturned earth as his resting place, a great man deserved better.

_'Is this how Shinra would treat me?'_ He thought as he walked away, footsteps slow and the slop of damp earth beneath his polished boots making him feel despicably calm. _'After years of loyal service is this the send off I'd receive?'_

He climbed into the chopper and no one said a word, there was nothing but silence, for all felt the same way. Their job made them do a lot of horrible things, but nothing like this.

They'd never had to make a friend disappear before.

As they took off and Tseng was tugging closed the door, a sudden gust of wind blew through, he felt it swirl around, whipping against his clothes before it knocked the box of letters from the seat where Tseng had left them. By some unexplainable miracle the seal broke and the letters flew away with the wind, disappearing into the strangely sunlit sky. It was a profound moment for Tseng, coupled with both deep sadness and loss and a feeling of fulfillment.

_I hope you get them… Zack._

"Sir?"

Tseng turned to face the speaker, frowning in displeasure at being disturbed.

"The document fragment you found on Z- the fugitive's body has been restored to its fullest capacity… it was very damaged, but you may be able to read most of it now." Tseng nodded, noting that the usually insensitive seeming Turk had struggled to contain his attachment to the dead. They all were trying to forget their first name basis with the deceased.

The walk to the research room was dead silent, just the even clicks of their shoes on the highly polished floors. They were passing a set of elevators when one rang and opened. Two SOLDIERs emerged, their kind few and far between in recent times. Tseng overheard brief spurts of their murmured conversation to one another.

"They treat us like we're expendable…. Entire lives to reach first… end up a post-script on a company update. I said I'd follow him anywhere, now he's gone I don't wanna follow anyone."

Tseng knew who they were talking about, it was common news lately, though none of them knew that the man they spoke about actually hadn't been dead for as long as they suspected, nor had he been killed how they were told. More company lies.

It was probably their own fault that SOLDIERs were walking out on them in droves. Tseng suspected the company was starting to lose support not only from within its own walls.

He reached the research room dedicated to Turk usage and swiped his key card, the door beeped and slid aside to admit him, hissing noisily as the systems that made it open and close engaged.

It was dark inside, lit by only a single red light bulb hanging above the rookies head. She stood by a small tray, in which floated the letter he'd fished from his clothes.

As Tseng approached she hit a sequence of keys and the substance in which the fragile paper floated began to glow and a projection of the document was beamed onto a holographic display for him to see. He frowned as he began to read, the writing was messy as if the writer had been in the back of a moving vehicle that was bouncing around a lot. They'd done their best to restore the ink and remove the stains, but there were still a few places that were quite badly damaged.

_'Well, today was your birthday. Yeah you thought I'd forget didn't you? Well I didn't, I wish I could be there to help you celebrate it. I'm on my way I promise… there's just been some unfortunate set backs._

_Midgar came into sight today, I don't know whether .. .. …d or worried, after all I am heading straight towards the hornets nest, soon I think they'll be all over me… but its worth it if I get to see you again._

_I'm bringing someone with me, he's a friend of mine whose come with me all the way from Ni…. .. see you. I hope that with your help to he'll recover. He us.. .. .. …. . good kid. There was a red sunrise this morning, isn't that usually a sign of something? I don't remember for sure but I guess it doesn't matter; I just want to get home._

_I need to tell you that I never left; you've been in my thoughts the whole way, what dreadful things do you …. .. ..?'_

Tseng paused his reading and inhaled deeply to compose himself. So it was a letter from Zack… presumably to Aerith. He considered reading no further, but curiosity compelled him, despite how sick it made him to the stomach to think that this was the last remaining legacy of Zack Fair… a crumpled, stained piece of paper…

'_I hope Tseng and the other Turks are taking good care of you. I'm worried that maybe they'll hand you over to those morons in the sc….. Department. Just know that I would be there to protect you if I could._

_I didn't choose this fate, I don't even think it's fair that I've received this treatment, I did nothing wrong. It was not I that ….. . …. to the ground._

_I've never really been one for words, talk and all that just kinda bugs me, but right now seemed like a good time if ever to finally write back to you._

_I got your last letter; I want to be there with you when you sell your flowers and I want to be there with you like we used to._

_But I have a foreboding feeling… even if I do get to Midgar, it might be safer for me to stay away… so that's why I decided to write this._

_Even if you can't see me there I'll be protecting you, you're all that's kept me going after I lost everything, thankyou._

_Wait for me, Aerith._

_Zack'_

Tseng struggled not to choke as he ordered the letter destroyed. He could not let anyone learn the truth, even Aerith, and so she could never read this letter… even though it was meant for her. It was probably better she stayed believing he'd left her.

Tseng turned from the room, his heart heavy. Zack had mentioned another with him… and the announcement had declared TWO wanted escapees. One of his Turks on the case had encountered Zack and his companion, and she'd reported that the man traveling with Zack was quite ill. It was this knowledge that helped Tseng reach his decision to help Zack escape rather than eliminate him.

His friend dead, his mission failed Tseng felt his heart freezing over, he'd been unable to save a comrade, but he could keep a promise.

"Reno, I want Aerith brought in immediately, and we need to find this other fugitive." The red headed Turk nodded, turning to do his bidding.

"The truth…. must stay buried." He looked down to his palm where there lay a small cylindrical object. He closed his hand around the used bullet, slipping the object unseen into his pocket.

_But not forgotten._


End file.
